Of Birds and Miniguns
It’s finally spring up here. I like that, in general. And I don’t mind birds either – true, I’m barely able to distinguish a sparrow from an emu, but I think they are fascinating and adorable critters. But… I’m something of an insomniac and when you’re up north and dawn comes around just after three in the morning ,and you try to go to sleep with the persistent tada-tweet-tada-tweet-tada-tweet of some horny*, matutinal assemblage of feathers trying to pick up someone to father his chicks echoing between the buildings…
Well, I’m thinking sinister thoughts about assault weapons, and maybe this one (as demonstrated by the Mythbusters) would be something that could bring the problem down:
At least it would bring some satisfaction. And maybe missing the bird would mean the removal of the tree from where it delivers its performance.
(I’m actually not a weapons nut, I happily continue zapping if there’s “Top Ten Super Mega Giant Assault Weapons” on Discovery, and I think world conflicts would better be solved with tea parties (or at least decent political mediation), but there’s something about the cold, meticulously timed perfection with which a modern gatling gun is able to wreak more or less unstoppable mayhem – call it some bizarre awe at the aesthetical clash of mechanical perfection and total destruction, maybe)
*I believe the main purpose if the barrage of tweeting has to do with mating, but who am I to say it’s not a part of the conspiracy to finally push me over the brink of insanity?
